The Rainbow - Outtakes
by addicted-to-romione-bedward
Summary: A collection of outtakes from The Rainbow.
1. Chapter 1: Pretty Boy

**Title:** Pretty Boy – The Rainbow Outtake

**Author:** addicted-to-romione-bedward

**Beta: **harrytwifan

**Rating: **M

**Word count: **3,669

**Disclaimer:** Twilight isn't mine. The main story (The Rainbow) is inspired by Queer as Folk, which again, I don't own. Not even the song, of course.

**Summary: **The beginning of The Rainbow told in Jasper's point of view. Written for LLS fandom fundraiser.

_I came in like a wrecking ball  
>I never hit so hard in love<br>All I wanted was to break your walls  
>All you ever did was wreck me<em>

**Miley Cyrus –**** Wrecking Ball**

**JPOV**

After the worst blow job I'd ever received, I decided it was time to head home.

Alone. Unsatisfied.

Fuck.

I raised my hand in goodbye to Pete, who was holding the bar, chatting with the bartender. He waved back, frowning at my early departure.

As the cold air outside hit me, I shivered, zipped up my jacket, and pulled out a cigarette. My fucking lighter decided to rebel against me when I needed it the most.

The world was conspiring against me. Since this morning when Alice poured her coffee over me, continuing to a couple hopeless patients—though I was determined to make them better —then my day from hell culminated to no Jim Beam at the bar and the fumbling idiot who tried blowing me.

I flicked, annoyed at my expensive lighter, hoping by some miracle it would work. A hand holding a disposable lighter appeared in front of my smoke.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for me to get laid.

Allowing the Good Samaritan to light my smoke, I stared into his eyes. I'd never seen such a shade of green before, like the ripe grass. Long lashes framed his beautiful eyes, and fuck me, he had a mouth meant to suck dick.

I could tell he was trying to be brave, and holding his lighter to me was probably the most daring thing he'd ever done, but what the fuck ever.

Inhaling the nicotine, I regarded the man in front of me. He truly was pretty, and somehow, I'd missed him before if he frequented this place.

"I've never seen you around here. Are you new in town?"

"Lived here all my life," he answered, staring at me, dazed.

It was nice to see the effect I had on the queers around me, especially those I met for the first time. Though, his words made me frown.

"I'd have remembered such a pretty face as yours."_ I'm good with faces, especially pretty ones. Since my motto is 'Never the same man, never an underage twink' I have to remember faces._

He shrugged, looking positively embarrassed.

Christ. If he was anything like the guy I had a few months back—he was the shiest thing when we met at Rainbow, then turned into a wild thing once we got back to my place.

I had to find out if this pretty face was the same. I had a feeling he was more than a pretty face, but the fuck if I cared. All that mattered was the fuck, then they left. And when they saw me at Rainbow, they pointed and whispered to their friends about our night together.

"Want to see my bedroom ceiling?" I smirked, flicking some ash, never taking my eyes off him.

An internal battle was taking place inside him, and I bit my lip as I watched many emotions cross his face—shock, confusion, determination, fear? Fear. Shit. Before I could add anything else to my fucked-up pick-up line, because seriously that was the most stupid thing I'd said in my life…

"Uh, sure. My mom's an interior designer."

"How sweet." I rolled my eyes. Like I want to hear about his mommy. "So, are you coming with me?" I regarded him curiously. I was horny as fuck, and if I put my mind to it, I could just fucking snatch an innocent passer-by and take him home. Though, I wanted this guy.

He had a goofy smile as he nodded.

Good. I turned to walk to my car. When I didn't hear him behind me, I stopped, looking over my shoulder. "Coming, or what?" _Seriously. There needs to be coming involved. Soon._

He quickly followed me.

"Cool ride," the pretty face said in admiration.

I smirked, staring at my most prized possession. I liked to call the i8 my midlife crisis gift to myself.

Pete told me people buy something significant when they hit the big three-oh, so I bought a car. When he and Rile saw it, they said they were talking about something less extravagant.

At least someone seemed to agree with me, and I eagerly shared my joy over buying the BMW.

We couldn't get home fast enough. The way he kept shifting in the seat next to me, his soapy scent filling my nostrils, made me painfully hard.

Arriving home, I rushed him inside, punched the alarm code, before leading him up the stairs. I started undressing on the stairs, eager to get into him the second we were in my bedroom, but there he was, standing awkwardly in front of me. Fully dressed, might I add.

"Are you going to gawk at me, or take your clothes off and join me?" I rolled my underwear down my legs and took my socks off.

As much as I secretly appreciated the impact I had on him, I needed to get off, and for that he had to be naked, too.

When he finally took his clothes off, he managed to stumble and fall to his knees in front of me. It was too funny. I couldn't help but comment.

"If you wanted to suck me, you could've asked."

Dear God. He was a natural at sucking dick. My fingers tangled in his soft hair, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper.

Of course. He had a gag reflex.

I pulled out, knowing it would ruin the fun if he insisted.

"We can try this later. Now, I want to fuck you," I said, helping him stand.

He moaned, touching himself. I smirked, pushing him on the bed. He watched me in anticipation as I grabbed supplies from the nightstand. One look at him told me I'd need more than one condom.

As I hovered over him, pushing the hair out of his raw green eyes, I realized he was having an internal battle. Again.

"Nervous?" I almost snorted. It was normal. I had guys feeling nervous before feeling my nine inch cock inside them for the first and only time.

The pretty face nodded, staring at me with wide eyes.

As I heated some lube in my palms, I asked a ridiculous question, but his nerves meant one thing.

"First time?" Hard to believe, though. So pretty and a virgin?

He nodded again, looking embarrassed as hell.

_It will be an honor, Pretty._ "I'll go slowly. Now, if you'd lean back and raise your knees…"

The only other virgin I'd been with was Pete. Many years ago.

Fuck, he was tight.

I liked my asses tight, but I'd forgotten how a virgin ass felt. I did my best to relax him, hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself once inside. That would be exactly what I needed to end my day from hell.

Then this pretty face would go around saying what a lousy fuck I was. No. I couldn't have that.

I shouldn't have worried about coming prematurely, because he sure did. The second my fingers brushed his prostate, he clenched around me, shooting his load. Pulling my fingers out, I took a moment to stare at his fluttering hole before rolling a condom on my dick and pushing in.

Fuuuuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He clenched around me like a vice.

His hand pressed against my stomach, as if to make me stop. Not a chance.

"Relax. The discomfort will be gone soon."

He didn't relax, making it difficult to move, but I tried. I also rubbed my thumb across his thigh, in a vain attempt to relax him. When the miracle happened, I was able to go deeper.

Leaning over him, I pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes again. I had to see his mesmerizing eyes. He was going to be one of those fucks I'd always remember, and not only because I took his innocence away.

"You're so pretty." I heard myself saying.

_What the fuck? Since when do I talk during fucking?_

I got a loud moan for an answer as I rammed his prostate. It brought back my confidence.

I moved slowly, keeping a steady rhythm to get used to his tightness and have him comfortable. Until he begged for more. It was all I needed to hear. Hooking his legs on my shoulders, around my neck, I started my usual hard fucking and had him screaming in moments. I was quite pleased he lasted for a whole minute before shooting...and I was right there with him.

The last time I'd come at the same time with my trick of the night...I had no idea if it ever happened.

I pulled out and went to throw away the condom. Once back in my room, I expected him dressed and ready to leave, so obviously I stopped in my tracks, shocked to find him fast asleep lying diagonally on my bed.

I bumped my knee into his foot, dangling off the bed. "You need to leave."

Fuck. They never stayed over.

"Five more minutes, Mom," he slurred, flopping on his side and snuggling with my pillow.

_Mom?_

What kind of pussy did I just fuck? Did he still live with his mommy? No wonder he was still untouched until a few minutes ago.

Crawling next to him, I decided to get some shut eye and hope when I woke up he'd be gone.

It didn't happen.

But I found the advantages of my trick staying the night. When he rolled over me, effectively waking me up not long after I'd managed to fall asleep, I felt his hardness against my hip. Pouring some lube on my hand, I brought my fingers to his ass and started playing with his hole. He shifted against me, moaning softly, until I pumped two fingers into him.

He shot up, staring at me in confusion, then a small smile appeared on his pretty face.

"Hey," he murmured groggily.

_Seriously_. _Who says 'hey' when he has fingers up his ass?_

I pushed against his shoulder until he was facing the mattress, and I was where I wanted—behind him. This time around he lasted longer, and I managed to hold more, too.

Exhausted, I fell next to him, and the last thing I saw before sleep took me was his bright eyes and a goofy smile. The things that made him happy. I planned on having him at least one more time before shoving him out of my house and life.

The next time, he woke me, his lips around my hard dick. It was the best way to wake up, and it made me question my rules. If all my tricks would wake me with a blow job, I'd let them stay the night.

I could see the first rays of light, and decided we had to try how spacious my shower was. But after he finished with the blow job. For a virgin, he was quite talented, and I wondered how experienced he actually was.

Later, in the shower, I had him splayed against the tiled wall, ramming into him from behind. He kept moaning, louder and louder, grabbing my hair as we kissed frantically. It occurred to me it was our first kiss, so I made it worthwhile, exploring his mouth deeply.

After the long shower, we got dressed. He pulled on his horrid jeans and loose t-shirt, before sitting on the bed to put his socks on. My ritual of getting dressed took longer. I felt like grey today, and after some browsing. I came across my Gucci suit and my light pink Armani shirt. As I buttoned up my shirt, I caught his eyes in the mirror.

He turned red, looking away for a second, before meeting my eyes again. I watched as he opened and closed his mouth. When I was tying my slim gray tie, he cleared his throat.

"I'm Edward."

I tried really hard not to laugh, but a snort escaped my mouth. "A little late for introductions, don't you think?"

Edward licked his lips, shrugging. "I guess it didn't come up." He eyed me expectantly.

"Jasper," I muttered. "Would you mind waiting downstairs? I need to make an important phone call." I had to get distance from him.

It was too much.

He'd stayed the night.

We'd fucked three times.

And now he was making introductions.

Sulking, he left the room.

"Don't steal anything!" I shouted, realizing I'd allowed a stranger to wander around my house.

_The fuck am I doing? _

My pretext of a phone call turned into a pep talk in the mirror.

_We're going to drive him to his car, or his house—No, the temptation will be too strong. Back to Rainbow, then he can go wherever the fuck he wants._

_We're going to forget him and his tight ass._

_We're going to find the hottest guy tonight and fuck __**Edward **__out of the system._

_You heard that? No more Edward. I don't care if you liked his ass._

Fuck, I was going crazy...talking to my dick.

Downstairs, I found him perched on a stool, tracing invisible lines on my counter.

I stood in the doorway, thinking of the very reason why they never stayed the night. It was this awkward moment of 'Where do I take you?', 'You won't see me again', 'We can't fuck again' I hated so much. They usually called a cab, or if they followed me in their own car, better.

"We should go," I said, frowning at his sad, pretty face.

His usually bright eyes had lost their light. "Uh… sure." As he approached me, shuffling his feet, my dick twitched.

"You start early?" Edward asked, standing so close I could smell my shower gel on him.

"Yes." It was a huge lie. I'd probably be the first at work; me and the cleaning staff.

He bit his lips, making me groan. "Don't. Just don't. I literally can't go another time. You know, changing the digits in your age does make a difference, especially when you hit the dreadfully three-oh."

_Why the fuck did I just tell him that? Why?_

It didn't matter anyway. I had him. It wasn't like I'd scare him off, which was part of the plan.

His eyes bugged out a little, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a fine line of sweat at his temple.

Sure it freaked him out, he'd fucked an old guy—which I wasn't. He appeared to be in college. A freshman, I estimated.

I drove him back to Rainbow where he'd left his car. He stalled for a few moments after I stopped at the mouth of the alley, before turning to me and leaning closer.

It was my turn to freak. I pulled away, glaring.

_The fuck? No goodbye kisses!_

"Get out," I hissed.

"See you?" He sounded hopeful.

"Sure," I said indifferently. Y_ou'd see me at the bar picking up a new trick and taking him to the backroom or home._ He looked crushed enough, so I chose not to say it out loud.

If only I knew he'd turn into the stalker type…

For the rest of the week, he appeared at the club, hovering around. I did my best to ignore him and made sure he wasn't aware of how aware of him I was, especially my dick. It had an Edward radar.

_Edward_. I rolled my eyes. _What kind of screwed up parents call their child Edward, in this century?_

I actually felt bad for him. Crazy name, living with mommy, and such a pretty face….what a waste.

It was on Friday night when the apogee of his stalking reached the peak.

I was chatting with Rile outside Rainbow, waiting for Peter, who said he'd arrive in five—and that was half an hour ago. Edward interrupted my bitching over my day at work, when he stopped next to us.

"Hey."

I had a strong sense of dejà-vu of him saying that with my fingers up his ass, in a sleepy voice, looking rumpled. _No!_ I pushed away these thoughts.

"Hello?" Riley looked at him confused.

Fuck. _Why did you acknowledge him?_ I wanted to shout at my friend, but he had no idea. Which meant I had to explain to him about my personal stalker.

"Come on, let's head inside. I'm sick of waiting for the drama queen."

I didn't wait for either of them to move, already walking inside the club, away from Edward and his green eyes, which looked bigger and more honest in his glasses.

I shouldn't have been surprised to see Peter dancing, several admirers around him. Pushing past them, I wrapped my arms around his neck, smirking when he jumped and opened his eyes. He always went into a trance when he danced.

A sheepish smile appeared on his face.

"Asshole."

I pecked his lips.

"I saw you smoking with Rile, and thought you'd come in when you were done."

"You were supposed to meet with us outside. Whatever." I moved closer as the song changed. "He's here."

"Who?"

"Pretty Boy."

"Well, ignore him. Choose a guy and forget about him." Meet Peter—the voice of reason.

"Don't you think I've tried? For the past week? I can't forget that ass."

"You're so screwed," he whispered.

Before I could comment, I was being pulled out of Peter's arms and a warm, soft mouth covered mine. Not that I objected to kissing, but I preferred to at least know who I was kissing.

The smell of soap was all the hint I needed. Surprising myself, instead of pushing him as far away as humanly possible, I pulled Edward closer, kissing him deeper.

Fuck. I'd missed his mouth, his taste, his hands in my hair.

"Damn, I must have been too drunk to remember what a good kisser you are." It was a lie, of course.

"Do you remember my ass, too? It misses you." Well, he was cheeky and witty. A new side of him.

A little cock up the ass could change someone's behavior one-eighty. Not that my cock was little or anything.

We danced. He wasn't graceful at all, but it made him cute, especially in these glasses. We made small talk about his necessity to wear said glasses, and I surprised myself yet again complimenting him.

As the night wore on, we hit the bar, and when Riley took Edward on the dance floor, I tried not to walk over and pick up my Pretty Boy, haul him over my shoulder, and take him to a safe place—my house.

We did end up back at my place. Eventually.

The whole weekend was a huge fuck-fest. I couldn't get enough of him.

And when he started talking to me about his life, his only friend, and silly random shit, I knew I was in deep trouble. I did my best to say as little as possible about me.

Everything came to a crashing end on Monday morning.

I made the mistake of asking if he wanted me to drive him home. He started babbling, but I caught the gist of it. His current clothes weren't _school_-approved.

My stomach dropped and I felt sick. Fear gripped me.

"How old are you?"

"Is my age a problem?" His voice wavered.

"If you're a minor…" I gripped the edge of the sink for support. "Tell me you're legal." _Please, for the love of God. Be eighteen, at least._ "Edward, tell me. I'll try to be understanding."

"Nineteen." He looked quite smug of the huge fat lie he threw at me.

I raised a brow, trying not to smile. There was nothing funny about the situation, though Edward trying to lie was too cute.

"Eighteen?" He tried again.

I wasn't sure what he was seeing on my face, but if he went any lower, I might hit my head against the wall at how stupid I was. Should I start carding my tricks? For fuck's sake!

"Okay! Fine. I'm seventeen. Big fucking deal."

_Big fucking deal indeed._

I took a calming breath. "I had two fucking simple rules—never fuck the same guy twice, and never do an underage twink. You're both."

I should have smelled twink all over him.

Looking back, everything pointed to how young he was: his mommy comment, his virginity, his clinging, his stalking, thinking he stood another chance...which he did. And lost it all with his age confirmation.

"Riley said I'm the exception," he protested softly.

I tried not to explode at Riley and his big fucking mouth. We bickered for a few minutes until I told him to grab a shirt from my closet, only to be done with the whole fiasco. The second I dropped him off wherever the fuck he wanted, he was going to be out of my life.

At school, I parked at the edge of the lot, waiting for him to get out. He didn't.

"Don't start weeping like a little queen," I hissed when I thought I heard a sniff.

My brutal comment made him fly out of the car. It made me feel horrible though.

He was seventeen. It wasn't his fucking fault.

I quickly got out too, meeting him at the hood of my car. In my arms, he sagged and started sobbing. My expensive suit was going to be ruined.

"Shh. Don't cry. Here, have my card. I don't want to see you anywhere near Rainbow. You're too young for that shit."

Why I gave him my card or attempted to be his friend was beyond me.

I even had the misfortune to meet his friend, Bella. She confused me with Prince Charming.

As I drove to work, my head was full of Edward and the ramification of my actions.

If anyone, especially his parents, found out—I was screwed, as Peter not so nicely pointed out.

Then there was this insane pull to be around him, to own that ass and keep him safe.

Pretty Boy was growing on me, and the mere idea of it scared me shitless.


	2. Chapter 2: Pain

**Title:** Pain – The Rainbow Outtake

**Author:** addicted-to-romione-bedward

**Beta: **harrytwifan

**Rating: **M

**Word count: **3,277

**Disclaimer:** Twilight isn't mine. The main story (The Rainbow) is inspired by Queer as Folk, which again, I don't own. Not even the song, of course.

**Warning: **heartache

**Summary: **The breakup told in Jasper's point of view. When he find Edward in bed with Alec. Written for Fandom4Christy.

_And it feels like I am just too close to love you,  
>There's nothing I can really say.<br>I can lie no more, I can hide no more,  
>Got to be true to myself.<br>And it feels like I am just too close to love you,  
>So I'll be on my way.<em>

**Alex Clare – Too Close**

**JPOV**

Philadelphia had never felt so far away from Pittsburgh.

I came to this convention every year, and I usually couldn't get here fast enough, enjoying every minute of it. The time in Philly always went too fast for my liking. Not this time around.

After my meeting, I went to a bar, downed a few drinks, then brought the first willing guy back to my hotel.

I was on the bed, smoking, while he got dressed to make the walk of shame after a rather unsatisfying round of sex, when my phone rang.

_Pete_. I grinned, accepting the call. "Hey, stranger."

"I thought you'd like to know. Your boy toy was getting shit-faced with another kid at Rainbow."

I sat up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

"Edward?"

"Who else? He left when he saw me, though."

"Was he drunk?" My free hand gripped my hair, trying to pull it out. I was such a fucking idiot for allowing that twink in my life.

"He passed drunk a few shots ago," Peter answered seriously. "Want me to follow them?"

"No. He's probably going back to my place. Where else would he go?" I shook my head. "Just go. What are you standing there for? Leave," I spat at the guy in front of me.

They always expected more. He turned around, slamming the door after him.

"Oh, I see you had your own fun." Pete chuckled.

"Believe it or not, I was bored. Anyway, I'm coming back."

"I'd miss you if you decided to stay in Philadelphia."

"I'm coming back _now_,"

Peter's breath caught, and I knew I'd never hear the end of it. So what? Pretty Boy had grown on me. A lot.

"You love him, don't you?"

"Peteeeer!" I groaned, getting out of the bed and picking my boxers off the floor. "Listen, I'll talk to you later. After I get home and have a talk about drinking with my kid."

"You do that."

On the plane, I repeated Pete's words in my head. The more I thought about it, the more I rejected the feeling inside me.

I wasn't capable of such a thing, and even if it was true, I shouldn't let it show. Love meant hurt, a pain so great it would rip your heart out.

Being brought up in a loving family filled with love had been one of the few things I cherished. Then, the ones I loved so much decided to break my heart and stomp all over it. I'd never realized what the big deal of liking another guy was until my father's fist explained it clearly.

Peter was the only person I let myself love, and show it to him. He was there from the beginning. He knew everything. He understood me, and took me as I was.

Then there was Riley, who was impossible not to like, though I'd never shown him how much I appreciated him and his friendship.

Lastly, there was Pretty Boy, who appeared in my life unexpectedly. The more I pushed him away, the closer we got. Stubborn dick that he was.

I fiddled with the leather bracelet I got him, still unsure why the fuck I burnt the letter J on the underside of it.

Dawn was breaking when I pulled in front of my house. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed next to my Pretty Boy and sleep. Scolding him would have to wait.

Dropping my bag at the foot of the stairs, I went to get a glass of water.

I froze in the kitchen doorway. One chair was upside down, clothes were thrown about, and my bottle of Tequila was empty on the floor. Half a lemon lay abandoned on the table, and there was salt everywhere.

As I bent to pick his clothes, half amused at him attempting self-body shots, I realized there were two t-shirts in my hand.

A bone chilling thought rushed through my head.

No way. Edward wouldn't bring someone here.

Not my little, inexperienced Edward.

Carefully walking up the stairs, I found two belts, two pairs of pants, and socks—four of them.

Shocked, angry, hurt, I stepped into my room where the trail of clothes led. I nearly face-planted, and got tangled in a pair of Batman boxers. Definitely not Edward's.

On my fucking bed. That's where they were, hugging each other.

The other guy looked to be a friend from school, considering he was just as young as Edward.

I wanted to punch Edward so badly, I had to clench my hands in order to calm myself.

_Who the fuck does he think he is?_

What gave him the right to fuck in my bed? In my house?

Sure, I'd advised him to explore with others, but not in my fucking house. The Backroom of Rainbow was ideal for such experiences.

I grabbed him by the arms, and pulled him up, wanting nothing more than to throw him out of my house. Pronto. He was such a jerk. I never thought he'd do this to me.

If he had to do it in my house, he could have at least fucked his twinkie friend in the guest room.

I dragged him out of the room, extracting a pair of boxers from my drawers, on the way outside. I slapped the underwear to his chest, and watched as he slowly stepped into them, sleepily.

"You fucking piece of shit!" I yelled.

He grimaced, fear clear on his face. I didn't give a fuck if I scared him. All the better, then he'd get the fuck out of my life.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" I continued when he didn't make a move to answer.

Edward leaned against the wall, wrapping an arm around his stomach, and looked down.

_Oh, so we're ashamed._

"Are you going to say anything? Did you drink yourself stupid? Fucked your brains out on my bed?"

I could feel blood rising to my head, and hoped I wouldn't burst a vein. I hadn't been this angry since the last phone call I had with my father when he told me about my mother being gone because of me. As if it was my fault she died.

Edward whimpered. "I'm sorry."

I clenched my fist, breathing through my nose in hopes I wouldn't punch his pretty face.

_Sorry? _Like that fucking insignificant word would make it all better.

"I'm taking you to your parents after we take the other kid home. I don't want to see you ever again!" Fucking ungrateful little shit.

I should have never caved to his doey eyes and pouty lips.

He started crying, wrapping around me like a koala. I pushed him away, or my resolve would break within the minute.

"Jasper, please. No. I was an idiot."

"Yes, you were. You have serious issues, Edward. I can't help you."

To this day, I wasn't sure why the fuck I didn't leave him at his parents'. Forced to stay together, they'd have worked it out, but maybe their ignorance and stupidity hit a little too close to home, and I felt like taking care of Edward was my responsibility. He was homeless because of me. If I hadn't taken him home and fucked him, he'd probably be living with his parents, hiding. No. That wouldn't be good for him.

I tried to hate myself for causing him so much trouble, but then again, that trouble brought him to my house. As much as I respected my rules, Edward quickly became that addicting exception. I couldn't get enough of him.

"I'm not crazy!" he wailed, grabbing my attention.

I rolled my eyes. "My branch of specialty is psychology, not psychiatry. People mix them up all the time."

"I don't need you professionally. I just need you." His broken voice almost did me in. Almost. But I kept having flashes of him naked in my bed with another guy, and I remembered the reason I wanted him gone. I remembered the reason I always respected my rules.

"Oh, I can tell. The second I left town, you went to another." I glared.

"You're such a hypocrite! You always fuck around, but I'm not allowed?"

_Oh, there are the little claws I missed._ I bit my lip to keep from teasing him; it wasn't the time to play games.

"Not in my house! Not in my fucking bed!"

His hands went to his mouth, probably realizing his mistake.

"Don't worry," I went on. "You can fuck him all you want in your room back at mommy and daddy's house. I don't give a shit."

_How dare he accuse me of tricking?_ He knew that was who I was, and I wasn't going to change for an eager pup still wet behind the ears.

"I'm sick," Edward mumbled.

"Yes, what you did makes me sick, too." I nodded, peering down at his pale face.

"No. I don't feel well."

Now that I looked closer, I could tell he appeared ill. Must be from all the booze he consumed.

Fuck.

Edward bent over, unceremoniously vomiting over my feet. That was one of the things in life I wished to never experience.

"Jesus. How much did you drink?" I held him up when he swayed.

Pete said he'd been drunk when he left Rainbow, then he decided to empty my good bottle of Tequila, which was half full from what I remembered. I was surprised they weren't comatose with all the alcohol in their blood.

I took Edward to the bathroom to freshen him up. I couldn't very well send him back to mommy and daddy stinking of puke and booze.

The other kid appeared to be awake, watching us with a heartbroken expression. Edward was such an idiot.

_Why the fuck did he decide to fuck his friend? Couldn't he choose some nameless, faceless hole at the club?_

Christ. I hadn't taught him well.

_Friends are off-limits. _

The next hour passed in a blur of washing Edward, dressing him, showering myself, and screaming at the top of my lungs while I was alone in the shower, then driving them to their respective houses.

In an uncalculated gesture, I gave Edward his present. It was his, after all. I didn't need that piece of leather. It was hard to answer all his questions about why I returned early, why I was pushing him away. He couldn't understand. Not like I could, either.

If I'd let my heart do the talking, he'd be still in my house, horizontal, vertical, screaming my name while I plowed his ass. But my brain knew what I needed, what was safe. And Pretty Boy could hurt me worse than anyone else; I had to distance myself from him. Fast.

I helped with his bags, staring at him and trying to memorize his pretty face. It would be the last time I saw him.

"Good bye, Pretty Boy," I whispered, kissing him softly, unable to restrain myself. I had to taste him one last time.

His arms wrapped around my neck, throwing himself into the kiss. When he pulled away just enough to breathe against my lips, I saw new determination in his eyes and braced myself.

"I love you."

The shock at hearing the words threw me off. I nearly fell backwards, but kept my spine straight. On autopilot, I stepped away from the danger, slid into my car, and drove away.

Tears blinded my vision as I drove with one destination in my mind—my rock. Peter.

When I reached his building, I rushed inside past the old lady who was going out with her dog. I took the stairs two at a time, nearly falling a few times. At his door, I fell against it, thumping on it loudly.

"PETER! PETE, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

I kicked at it until I heard the locks turning, and a bleary eyed Peter stared at me sleepily.

"Are you fucking high?"

I pushed in past him, taking a shuddering breath. He was the only person who'd ever seem me cry.

"Fuck!" I kicked the leg of his coffee table.

"Don't destroy my house, man!"

"That fucking piece of shit!" I shouted, shoving the cushions away from the couch.

"Jasper, calm the fuck down." Peter walked closer, carefully, as if afraid to approach me.

"Talk about biting the hand that feeds you," I muttered, turning his coffee table upside down, then kicking it for good measure. I had to take my anger and pain out on something.

"Why must you always have your drama queen moments in my house?" Peter groaned, grabbing my hands and pushing me to the couch. "Sit the fuck down."

The second I sat, my head fell in my hands and an ugly sob escaped me. I hated myself for feeling like this, for allowing that little shit to get under my skin.

"Christ. Are you okay, Jazz? Did your dad call?"

I shook my head, pressing a hand over my heart. It hurt like shit.

"Man. What's wrong? Talk to me. Something hurting?"

"My heart," I choked out. I had no idea that muscle could hurt so badly.

"Shit. Are you having a heart attack or something?" He took my face in his hands, his wide, panicked eyes staring right into mine.

"My Pretty." I sobbed, tugging him closer and hugging him tightly.

"Fuck. What happened to Edward? Is he okay?"

"The guy you saw him with?" I pulled away enough to see him nodding. "They fucked on my bed. He screwed behind my back. He showed me how it hurts to see the one you love with someone else."

"Jasp…" Peter stroked my hair. "Honey, you'll talk it out. Have a sit-down and discuss your fucked-up relationship."

"We can't. I took him back to his parents. It's over."

"For how long? Until next time you see him?"

"He'll listen to me. He always has. He won't come looking for me."

"Jasper, give it some time, then talk to him."

"He said he loves me," I whispered, clutching Peter tightly.

"That's good, cuz you love him, too. Right?"

I looked away.

"Jasper, don't push him away. He's already been through enough. Who the fuck knows what he'll do?"

My heart stopped for a second. "Do you think he'll try to kill himself?" I felt sick.

"He's a teenager, gay, rejected by his parents, and more importantly, by the only guy he ever loved and trusted. Do the math, genius." Peter glared, his brown eyes stern.

"No, no, no. I can't. It hurts."

"It's called jealousy."

"What?" I gasped, resting my head against his shoulder. He always managed to smell of sand, like home.

"Us, mortals, we call that feeling jealousy. It gnaws at your gut and tears your heart to shreds."

"How do you know about it?" I frowned. At his raised eyebrow and soft eyes, I realized my mistake. Our unspoken agreement. "Stupid question."

Peter lay on top of me, combing his fingers through my hair. He kissed a spot under my chin, then down my throat, moving to my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled sleepily.

I felt him shrugging, before settling his head on my chest. "It's beating kinda fast. You sure you okay?"

"I will be," I answered, closing my eyes. Another tear slid down my cheek, but I ignored it. "Pete, how the fuck did this happen? Why Pretty Boy?"

"Because he's an insistent little fucker. He made you really happy. I wish you could have seen it."

I considered his words. Looking back, I'd never been happier than in the past few months.

"You owe me a new coffee table," Pete muttered into my chest.

I chuckled. "Sorry, I guess. It was you or the table. I had to kick something."

"Then by all means, keep destroying my furniture."

I stroked a hand over his back, smiling as he hugged me tightly. I knew he'd always be there. If everything else fell apart, Peter was always my rock.

Right before I fell asleep, something jumped on the couch, settling at the crook of my neck.

"Push the fucking cat away or you'll have cat brain matter on the wall."

Peter immediately moved his cat to the floor, telling her to stay. I couldn't understand why the fuck he needed that thing. It only left hair everywhere.

**oOo**

I woke up disorientated and with something warm on my chest.

As reality came crashing down, I heard a loud bang from the kitchen. Pete cursed loudly.

Wait. If he was in the kitchen… I peeked at the warm thing on my chest.

A pair of bright green eyes stared back, small, soft paws digging into my pecs. The white fluff ball stretched, the claws escaping their pillows, and that was my cue to shove her aside. She mewled loudly, throwing me a nasty glare before strutting to Peter, who'd appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, princess."

"Aw. How sweet. You're calling me names I wished to never be called," I joked.

"I was talking to my cat, Snow Princess." Pete kissed the top of the cat's head, and I made a mental note to not make the mistake to kiss him any time soon.

"You and that pussy." I shuddered, getting up and stretching. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to go home."

On my way to the kitchen, the clock caught my eye. Six. Holy shit. We'd slept through the day.

I had no idea breaking up could be so exhausting.

After a coffee and some ravioli—the source of his cursing earlier, I took a shower, borrowed a too large t-shirt, and we headed out the door. Despite Pete's protests, I wanted to go to Rainbow.

I needed normalcy, and getting shitfaced and fucking in the Backroom was exactly what I needed.

Riley was already at the bar, sipping from his girly drink and chatting with the bartender.

"You're back!" He barreled at me, hugging me tightly.

I patted his back, squirming out of his arms. "I'm back," I answered. "Scotch," I told the bartender.

He poured me a couple inches of brown liquid in a glass. I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to keep pouring. He knew me better than that. When the glass was half full, I immediately downed it.

"Another."

I repeated the process five times, until Pete told the bartender he was being summoned on the other side of the bar. It wasn't a lie; some dude was waving like crazy to him. But I knew why Pete stopped my drinking.

"Did the conference go wrong?" Riley asked.

I took a healthy gulp from my latest glass of JB, ignoring his question.

I saw Pete from the corner of my eye as he whispered something to Riley. By the sad look on my friend's face, he knew what had happened.

"It's going to be okay, sweetie. I remember how terrible I felt after my first break-up." Riley rubbed my back, kissing my cheek repetitively.

I pushed him away, wiping my cheek on my shoulder. "Can we just forget about that ungrateful little bitch? Good. Later." I downed the rest of my glass, and walked to the Backroom.

I didn't need to pick anyone. At least three guys followed. The more the better.

Life went on without Pretty Boy. I could live without him.

The only problem was, I didn't remember what the fuck I was doing before I met him. As long as I spent as much time at Rainbow, and spent close to none time at home, I'd be okay.

* * *

><p><strong>There will be more to come. Different povs. No idea when, but keep the story on alert. :)<strong>


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